


Only a Game

by mosvalsky



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Incest, M/M, Nonsense, Overly Dramatic, Parent/Child Incest, Repetition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 15:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2114673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosvalsky/pseuds/mosvalsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is only a game," he tells himself, but he's falling harder into it every passing day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only a Game

**Author's Note:**

> I was exhausted when I wrote this, so if it doesn't make sense, that's why.  
> Also for clarification, capitalized He or Him refers to Thranduil.

"This is only a game," he tells himself, but he's falling harder into it every passing day. 

Every time he catches a glimpse of something he shouldn't. Every time he allows Him to see what he shouldn't. 

As he presses his ear to his father's door to hear him moaning his name in complete and utter satisfaction, as he calls out for him far louder than he should in the dead of night.

It's only a game. 

Stripping himself bare to bathe in the pool before him, burning delightfully in the eyes he knows are watching him. 

Daring to stroke himself in the open air beneath the moonlight, in the clearing only He is aware of, only He can see.

It's only a game.

Gasping his name in private when only silence and musky incense surround him.

Feeling on fire as he watches Him at the most unimportant and meaningless of tasks.

He couldn't place when his head began to spin, when the only truths he knew were skewed and awkwardly placed. When his world became a fantasy, a misinterpretation of his own mind.

But now he could hardly call it a game. 

When his voice was carried so far that He couldn't mistake it for anything but what it was. When He rushed into his presence and accosted him, evidence striking against his imagined reality. 

When He smiled blissfully and took him into His arms. When He told him nothing else mattered. When his love overpowered all thought and capability of any action but to hold Him against him.

When the lines between dream and reality and danger and sagacity all seemed so blurred that he could barely function. 

It was no game.

But it couldn't be real.


End file.
